To the dearly departed.

Everything is normal. Going along as it does. Then I’m reminded all of the sudden. Your not here. You left us. You killed yourself. It comes with no warning. I can never pinpoint what triggers the blunt reminder. But it steals my breath away. Every time. You. Are. Not. Here. Then the anger comes. It rises, bubbling away under the surface till it reaches my hands. Clenching my fingers into fists. Rises further. Gritting my teeth. Fuck you. Your stupid impulsive decision has ruined our lives. I never thought anyone would be able to make me feel such rage, let alone you. You who were always dependable, who was always there. Who I could rely on no matter what, have made me sob when my mother, your wife, who was the supposed to be the love of your life, calls me in hysterics terrified that I and her two other children are going to go down the same path you did. You, who have made your own mother weep and ail in health from grief. You who have destroyed your own fathers faith in people indefinitely. You, who have left your own brother and son with the burden of responsibility and guilt on their shoulders to look after your family. You, who have destroyed all of your youngest daughters dreams and hopes for the future at the tender age of fifteen. So from all of us left behind, Fuck you. Never, ever did I think I would be saying this to you. But I hate you. I hate that you left the horrifying image of your body hanging there to be found by your wife in the morning. When it could have so easily have been your youngest daughter discovering the gruesome, mind and life altering scene. Did you even think of that? Of course not, you didn’t think of any of us. You who always put us first didn’t put us first when it really mattered. So in saying that, I hope you are not resting peacefully. I hope you are experiencing the horrifying reality of what you did. I hope you are suffering as we are. That’s all I want right now. Fuck you.